


That Boy Is A Monster

by Tozette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Creature Fic, Gen, blanket permission for podfic or translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3334649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tozette/pseuds/Tozette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, during one of his semi-regular tussles with the Dark Lord, is bitten by a vampire. He …does not adjust that well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Boy Is A Monster

**Author's Note:**

> From a series of tumblr AU prompts. There's a mention of self-harm in here (for feeding the vampire), so be aware of that.

 

The best thing about being a vampire, Harry thinks, is the moment when he returns to the Dursleys and says, “Oh, yeah… I’m a vampire now, so I won’t be going outside during the day. Don’t worry, my meals are all sorted out.”

The expression that crosses Aunt Petunia’s face is particularly funny.

The worst thing about being a vampire is, you know,  _everything_ else.

* * *

He thought that it would be some kind of natural thing, that he’d develop an immediate, overwhelming craving for blood. He doesn’t.

The first three days he spends  _dead_ , and so he wakes in the hospital wing feeling… strange. Cool and restless and empty. His stomach is aching, but there’s no overwhelming need for blood.

Mostly he just wants water.

“Muggle nonsense,” says Madam Pomfrey with a disdainful sniff. “Vampires are only dangerous over time. Why, your first hundred years will be no worse than living with any number of medical conditions…”

Harry isn’t sure what kind of  _medical condition_  requires the afflicted to stop eating food of all kinds, but vampirism sure does.

Particularly unlucky is how Ron and Hermione have left possibly half of Honeyduke’s in the room for him. He can smell the sugar, and he wants it, but —

“I am afraid, Harry, that those will make you  _quite_ sick,” Dumbledore informs him with undue cheer. He leaves with a slab of Honeyduke’s finest, and Harry has never resented the Headmaster quite as much as he does right now.

He tries eating a chocolate frog anyway, just to — just to make sure.

Unsurprisingly, it makes him sick.

“Well, really!” Pomfrey snaps. “What did you think was going to happen?”

* * *

For the first time he remembers, he’s stronger than his cousin, and Dudley’s fat fists look like they’re coming at him through molasses.

He avoids being hit, nice and easy, and slinks away to the darkness of the cupboard under the stairs. It’s a day for firsts, it seems, because he’s never wanted to be in there before. But it’s dark and cold in there, and…

Midday sun, even indirectly, makes his head hurt.

He sleeps like the dead.

No pun intended.

* * *

Harry doesn’t like being up during the day. Everything is too bright and he feels fuzzy-headed.

“Well,” Ron says gamely when he mentions it, “you  _are_ sort of nocturnal, mate.”

Ron and Hermione, of course, stand by him - even when much of Gryffindor seems to balk at the presence of a Dark Creature in their house.

(“I wonder how they’d feel about Professor Lupin,” Hermione muses drily, but nobody brings it up. Not everybody here was privy to the mess at the end of third year, and they don’t need to muddy Lupin’s reputation any worse.)

The only thing they can do to help him meet Hogwarts’ schedule is to teach him a permanent shading charm, so he’s usually in a bad mood for breakfast and lunch anyway.

Petty as usual, Snape has rearranged his entire class schedule to make sure he’s teaching Harry first thing in the morning.

“I’m sure that’s not the only reason,” Hermione says, but she doesn’t sound very certain.

“You think that, Hermione,” Harry growls, glowering at the morning sun and muttering his shading charm over and over, but it’s too early, his magic’s sluggish, his head is fuzzy,  _he just wants to go to bed_ , “if it makes you feel better.”

Hermione gives him a short, superior look, rolls her eyes, and casts the charm for him.

* * *

It still tastes like  _blood_.

It’s thick, and rusty and strangely sweet. There’s a flavour to it that hits him in the nose and catches in his throat, and in general he absolutely  _hates_  his new diet.

“It’s disgusting,” he complains to Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall. Peculiarly, the more he complains about how much he dislikes drinking the blood the house elves prepare for him (and god knows where they get it), the more relaxed the younger students seem to become.

“We didn’t want to be rude-” Fred says, peering over one of his shoulders.

“- so  we’re glad you said it first,” George adds, settling his chin on the other.

Harry wants to smack them, but probably only because it’s lunch time and the sun is high in the sky. He covers his eyes with his hands instead.

* * *

The Weasleys, in general, adapt to Harry’s vampirism a lot faster than he does.

He visits at Christmas, and, well, Mrs Weasley has  _pamphlets_. Harry didn’t even know they made pamphlets for sudden onset vampirism.

“It should all be quite all right,” she informs him with a determined look on her face.

They let him sleep until 4 PM, and when he gets up there’s always a body-temperature cup of blood waiting for him.

“We’re taking it in turns to donate,” Ginny says, firmly and with good cheer.

“Er,” says Harry.

But the Weasleys are determined to discuss his food with the same casualness they discuss their own, and so —

“Better watch where you cut like that, Ronniekins,” says one of the twins, grinning a terrible, shit-eating grin, at Ron as he grimly slices into his own arm, “Somebody’s going to think you have a problem.”

* * *

“I hear there are a lot of Muggle books about the subject,” says Mr Weasley one night after dinner - everybody’s dinner. Tonight the bandage is on Arthur’s arm, so Harry resigns himself to attempting to explain  _Twilight_.

It, er, it doesn’t go that well.

* * *

“Oh, yeah,” he says to Dudley after dark, baring his new fangs. “I’ve bitten loads of people. I just… lose control, you know?” He takes a step forward, and smiles when Dudley turns and flees.

And, okay, maybe it’s a  _little_ fun, being a vampire.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] That Boy is a Monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9605864) by [KeeperofSeeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeeperofSeeds/pseuds/KeeperofSeeds)




End file.
